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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585789">No Experience Required</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubberandGlue/pseuds/RubberandGlue'>RubberandGlue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Don't You Think I'm Clever? [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Rewrite, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:26:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubberandGlue/pseuds/RubberandGlue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A rewrite of Anita Blake if she had an assistant who wasn't quite who she said she was.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Don't You Think I'm Clever? [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Keep Your Head Down and Your Ears Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This will follow the books at first a little more closely than I would ideally like but I am hoping that it will be different enough to not feel like you are rereading the entire book before I really start to shake things up. I will be creatively finding ways to skip parts without doing huge time jumps. Wish me luck because I think I might be biting off more than I can chew. I should also be doing homework.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anita Blake wasn’t the worst boss that I had ever had. Anita was particular to the extreme, and a lot less self-sufficient than one would have thought, but not the worst.</p><p>This night on the other hand was pretty bad. Monica Vespucci was not someone that I could see Anita getting along with, let alone liking. She was wearing a button that said, “Vampires are People, too,” and from the way that Anita eyed the pin I knew that she was only just keeping from rolling her eyes.</p><p>“I’m so sorry that I put off planning this to the last minute, Catherine. That’s why there’s only four of us. Everybody else had plans,” Monica said.</p><p>“Imagine that, people having plans for Friday night,” Anita shot back. She was not however holding back any of her sarcastic quips. Although, after knowing Anita for the last few years I doubted that she would have been able to stop herself even if she <em>had</em> tried.</p><p>I watched Catherine give Anita a warning glare behind Monica’s back. The fake smile that was given in return seemed to only fool Monica as she danced her way down the sidewalk.</p><p>I walked ahead of them but behind Monica so that I created the illusion of privacy as Catherine scolded Anita for her attitude toward Monica while also not having to interact with Monica. I didn’t know why, but she made me uncomfortable. She made me want to fidget.</p><p>“Hurry up, slowpokes,” Monica yelled after she turned around and began to walk backwards.</p><p>I watched her awkwardly walk while wondering if she would be able to keep her balance. I knew that she had only had two drinks with dinner but I had a feeling that she had engaged in a little pre-drinking tonight. This was not looking good. Anita hated drinking and as a side effect had absolutely no tolerance for drunken behavior. I found myself drifting as Monica giggled and teased about the surprise that she had in store for us as we drew closer to the Riverfront.</p><p>Hearing the name Guilty Pleasures I made a face and was relieved to remember that I had brought my mini sketchbook with me. I wasn’t interested in watching anyone strip. Naked bodies didn’t interest me and while I wasn’t a virgin I had never had sex when I wasn’t being paid for it.</p><p>I hung back as Monica squeezed the bouncer’s arm. “Ooo, feel that muscle.” He was a vampire.</p><p>I hung back and pushed a strand of curly rose gold hair until was safely behind my ear. While the majority of my hair was in plaited with fake white flowers woven throughout and pinned up like a crown around my head, I had styled my hair so that I had soft tendrils falling loose. I knew that it would only pop back to tickle my check again later but it was something to do with my hands. I didn’t actually know the people at this party very well. I was Anita’s personal assistant and while my job description was very much vague I pondered if this would fit under “and other duties” or not.</p><p>I could faintly sense Monica’s excitement and underneath that was a sense of anticipation. I figured that it was only because of the fact that she felt sneaky about bringing Catherine to a vampire owned strip club but it was only a faint notion. The emotions crowding out that were coming from inside the club: lust and more lust.</p><p>“Go on in, Monica. Your table is waiting.” Buzz pointed us in with a tilt of his head. </p><p>I was impressed despite my own apathy toward this whole situation. She had her own table. How often did she come here and just who did she know? This place was very popular and notorious for being difficult to get into. And they did not allow for reservations.</p><p>We were pushing through the door with a large sign upon it that read “No crosses, crucifixes, or other holy items allowed inside,” and I was handing over a plain rose gold ankh when I heard a voice address Anita.</p><p>“Anita, how good of you to come.” It was Jean-Claude, club owner and master vampire. As one curly haired individual to another I approved of his hair routine. His hair looked soft and his curls very much defined. A difficult balance to keep. He had antique white shirt that hung open and was completly covered in lace.</p><p>“You two know each other?” Monica sounded surprised.</p><p>“Oh, yes,” Jean-Claude said. “Ms. Blake and I have met before.” He paused when he saw me. “Ah, good evening as well, Ms. Murphy.” His greeting to me was an afterthought.</p><p>“I have been helping the police work cases on the Riverfront.” Anita supplied the information readily and bluntly, cutting off any possibility of me responding.</p><p>“She is their vampire expert.” Jean-Claude explained further. He had a way of talking that made everything sound suggestive. I found it strange and unnecessary but conceded that with his business it was probably an unavoidable habit.</p><p>Monica giggled at the implication and Catherine stared at Jean-Claude until Anita tapped her on the arm which caused Catherine to jerk awake. “Important safety tip-never look a vampire in the eye.”</p><p>Catherine nodded and I could not only sense her fear but see it in her eyes.</p><p>“I would never harm such a lovely young woman.” He took Catherine’s hand a raised it to his mouth. A mere brush of lips. Catherine blushed.</p><p>The banter between Anita and Jean-Claude was nothing new for me. We often came into contact with him during jobs and while I was able to keep my head down and off his radar Anita had never been as lucky. He was positively fascinated with her. Everything from her partial immunity to his powers to the cross-shaped burn scar on her arm attracted him. And as long as he didn’t try to look too closely at myself I was completely okay with that. It was that selfish part of me where my self-preservation resided that told me that Anita could handle his attentions. She, at least, would be able to stand up to the scrutiny. I wasn’t so sure about myself. I had put a lot of effort to get to where I was today, but it was a precarious position. Lies tended to start to pile up after a while. And so far I had been working with Anita for two years.</p><p>Monica gripped Anita’s arm. “You’re going to live this, I promise you.”</p><p>“Yes,” Jean-Claude said. “It will be a night you will never forget.” And it may have been the slowly building tension from Anita that I had been sensing all night or it could have just been that I spent too much time around her and her paranoid nature was rubbing off on me but I felt like something was happening. Something big.</p><p>Monica pulled at Anita’s arm. “Hurry, the entertainment’s about to begin.”</p><p>“Entertainment?” Catherine wondered aloud.</p><p>Anita smiled her first true smile of the night. “Welcome to the world’s only vampire strip club, Catherine.”</p><p>“You are joking.”</p><p>“Scout’s honor,” was the reply.</p><p> </p><p>Our table was nearly bumping up against the stage. The room was full of liquor and laughter, and a few faked screams as the vampire waiters moved around the tables. There was an undercurrent of fear. That peculiar terror that you get on roller coasters and at horror movies. Safe terror.</p><p>Before the lights went out, I opened my purse. It was a cross body bag shaped like medium-sized pink teddy bear. I pulled out a pair of earplugs, my sketchbook, and my favorite cheapo Bic pen. I had no intention of experiencing this. In the corner of my awareness I could feel Anita’s jealousy as I inserted the earplugs just as the lights went out and screams echoed through the room.</p><p>Subtly I brought my hands up and adjusted my glasses directing my magic to the lenses and allowing me to see in the pitch black club. And ignoring the show, I drew. As I drew I leaned forward so that I didn’t lean against the chair. The giant bow that made up the lower half of my shirt added a nice touch of interest to my outfit but I knew from experience that it wasn’t the most comfortable to lean back on.</p><p>I warmed up by drawing quick sketches of my sisters and brothers as I remembered them. As I imagine I would always remember them. I had no intention of returning home. I would always love them but I couldn’t return. And I knew that if no one else that Gypsum would have understood my reasoning if she only knew it. But I couldn’t tell anyone.</p><p>I ignored the goings-on around me. I was in my zone where I saw everything but noticed nothing. I drew the dancing man who was being kissed by Monica as she shoved bills down the front of his pants. Her face was crazed.</p><p>I turned my attention to the rest of the audience and I did quick minute sketches of each.</p><p>I was pulled from my sketches when Anita tapped my shoulder and I removed the plug in the ear nearest her. “I am leaving. I figured you wouldn’t mind leaving early. I will come back to pick them up later.” </p><p>I nodded and accepted the invite. There was a tension in the air as we left.</p><p>Jean-Claude was standing by the door as my ankh and Anita’s cross were returned to us. “I almost had you, my little animator,” he said.</p><p>She glanced up at his face so quickly that I almost doubted what I saw before she returned her gaze to chest height. “Almost doesn’t count, you blood-sucking bastard.”</p><p>Jean-Claude threw back his head and laughed. His laughter followed us into the night ringing loud and true. And a secret that I was hoping no one would find out was that I didn’t feel a thing. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Come and Get It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tabitha goes about her business on her day off. She has a life and she just wants live it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In the first chapter I was just trying to introduce my original character and I sometimes feel like I succeeded. I wanted to give her a sense of mystery and hopefully compel you to want to know more about her. Not introducing her first name was a strategic and possibly risky move on my part. I am trying to slowly build her up and give facts about her without resorting to info dumps.</p><p>I don't like those and I will usually skim scenes where the characters meet up to rehash everything that we as readers have practically lived through already. I am having an existential crisis though because part of me just wants to speed though and get to the scenes that I want to do but a larger part really wants to try and not make this rushed. Even if I feel like I am dragging this story along.</p><p>Also this is going to be a crossover but I don't really want to tag it until the crossover becomes more obvious. In my opinion though, there are some pretty big hints in the first chapter already.</p><p>Also the titles don't really have anything to do with the story. I just like when chapters have unique names.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">While my nights belonged to Anita, my days belonged only to me. It was a good arrangement. One that I had gotten very comfortable with. Driving home this early in the morning was something I enjoyed as well. The lack of traffic brought me comfort and the dark gave me a feeling of being hidden. And being hidden usually meant being safe.</p><p class="p2">I parked my car in my driveway and as I did I felt a sense of vindictiveness. It was petty and I knew it. I also knew how unseemly it was but I couldn’t help it. Helen of Number 4 was behind these toxic feelings. I had bought the land that my house was on in cash three years ago when I first moved to St. Louis. An event that had only been made possible due to “extenuating circumstances”, also known as the discovery of a mass grave site. So, of course, by the end of my first year houses had been built near the edge of the left side of my property and shortly after the new homeowners had tried to get me to join the local Homeowners Association.</p><p class="p2">I refused. And I had assumed that that was that.</p><p class="p2">I was wrong and Helen and I were now at war. It was a badly kept secret within the neighborhood that I was winning.</p><p class="p2">As I continued down my walkway I checked on my thriving garden. I grew for both produce and pleasure. And it looked like I would be able to have some fresh veggies for breakfast today. I was thinking of adding some leftover marinated tofu and calling it done. I would harvest what I needed after at least a good five hours of sleep.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">When I woke up to my alarm blaring at me I contemplated and discarded the idea of switching over to a song rather than the loud sound more suited for jewelry heists gone wrong. That path only led toward disappointment and resentment. And I knew it well.</p><p class="p2">I contemplated how Anita’s night might have gone briefly as I got dressed. Anita judged me harshly for the fact that I was enamored with things that she considered “too girly” and sometimes I felt mildly irked by Anita’s closed minded view of me and the only proper way that she saw of being female. I wasn’t going to change my sartorial choices just because my employer didn’t share my love of dresses or pink. Especially if I wasn’t violating any type of dress code, of which, there was none.</p><p class="p2">It was as I was almost finished eating my breakfast that I realized that Helen had yet to come storming up my walk to yell at me about where I had parked my car.</p><p class="p2">Just last week I had received a letter addressed to “Madam Tabitha M. Murphy” informing me that she had noticed that my flowers were not properly color coordinated, and she felt that it was her duty as a generous neighbor to let me know that if I needed the assistance that the HOA would be more than willing to provide it. She was as ever just concerned for me. Especially if I didn’t have the time nor ability to keep my grass below the regulated four-inch height maximum. It was the most attractive height for grass if I wasn’t aware. Mine on the other hand looked to be almost a full inch too long. I secretly waited for my grass to hit 6 inches before I even thought about trimming it.</p><p class="p2">My house’s exterior wasn’t unattractive by any means but I knew the fact that I wasn’t under the HOA burned something deep inside Helen and I found our war an amusing distraction at times. I never went out of my way to ruffle her feathers but if there was an opportunity that didn’t inconvenience anyone but her, I would willingly take it.</p><p class="p2">Helen either had been called into work early today or one of her kids was sick. She was a good mother, a good person overall really, she was just a terrible neighbor and an incredible busy body. She wanted to believe that she had the answer to everything and that the only proper way was her own. She would ask you questions just to critique you. And she saw it as a favor of the highest degree. Her kids were the best kind of adorkable munchkins though. I only slightly made up for it.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">My first stop of the day was my dance class. I didn’t compete professionally or anything. It was all for fun.</p><p class="p2">“Hi, Minou,” the front desk clerk welcomed me by my middle name, something that most eventually settled on when speaking to me.</p><p class="p2">“Hi, Ro.” Aurora was a home-schooled high school senior and a self-proclaimed history nerd. She loved finding out about the past and spending long hours at the local library just pouring over books. I sometimes worried that her eyesight was going with how close she held her books to her face. She manned the desk four hours on Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays. The three days that I attended classes and while I knew that there was another front clerk I had only ever seen Ro behind the desk.</p><p class="p2">“Did you have breakfast yet, Ro?” I asked even as I knew the answer and started to pull out a lunch box packed with a double portion of what I had eaten for breakfast as well as a portion of my dinner from the night before from my gym bag as she signed me into the computer.</p><p class="p2">She blushed from her roots to the top of her Belle Epoch inspired blouse. “Um, no. My dad made breakfast hash with bacon and sausage and I didn’t want to complain, so I said that I would eat here.”</p><p class="p2">Ro was vegan. She just couldn’t stand the smell or taste of meat. Her family often forgot this fact. Possibly in the hope that this phase of hers would go away eventually. Our swap was routine at his point, but she never seemed to get less flustered by it. I knew that she was embarrassed by the fact that I always brought her food but I couldn’t just stand by if I could do something to help her. She needed to eat and this exchange made me feel warm and happy.</p><p class="p2">Today was ballet.</p><p class="p2">Ballet was very precise and technical but there was something about it that made me feel free. If done well it looked so effortless and graceful. It was also an excellent form of exercise and as someone who found running boring I deeply enjoyed it. I was aware that my mother only allowed me to take dance lessons as a child because of her feelings toward Gypsum’s weight but after a week of lessons I had been hooked. Wild horses couldn’t tear me away.</p><p class="p2">“Please begin with stretching.” Mrs. Fortuce always began class with this phrase. And while the class of nine students stretched Mrs. Fortuce turned on the stereo. The music she would start with was calming and really helped us to relax into the stretching.</p><p class="p2">“Please put the barre’s into position.” Emily was very straight forward and while she luckily didn’t bark commands at us, she did have the air of someone who expected to be obeyed. And obeyed the first time.</p><p class="p2">I ended up between Milo and Lucinda. Milo had been a professional dancer in his youth in Italy. He had brought pictures at the insistence of everyone in the class and once he realized that everyone was actually interested and not just being polite he was more than happy to send digital copies of a few of his past performances. He had been very handsome in his youth and while he was much older now pushing 50 he was still an incredible dancer. He sometimes danced in small local productions and while his skill had declined with age I could only imagine the poetry in motion that was him in his prime.</p><p class="p2">Lucinda was someone that I knew especially well. She had helped me secure the land that my house sat upon. She had helped me find the right people to draw up the blueprints based on my own ideas, had helped me get the plans approved, and had even helped me to scout out the company that had built my house. She had been a godsend when it came to my move to the area. She and her husband had also been the last two clients that I had been involved with before I had started to work for Anita after a year of living in St. Louis.</p><p class="p2">It was a mutual break on all three of our parts. And while I never returned to their beds we had no problem with being in the same ballet class together. Lucinda said that it was nice to spend time with someone who knew her so well. Someone who she didn’t have to put up a pretense with. As a woman very high up in her company she felt like she always had to be in control at work and to let go with anyone was a gift.</p><p class="p2">We worked through the barre exercises in unison. All of us had been in the same class for at almost one year and it showed.</p><p class="p2">We soon transitioned over to being directed across the dance floor after Mrs Fortuce explained and then showed us what she wanted to see us do. Lucinda was behind me in the middle group of three. She hugged me from behind while Mrs Fortuce showed us the first five sets that she wanted us to complete. It wasn’t sexual and I knew it. Lucinda was just very affectionate with those she trusted.</p><p class="p2">“Your form is gorgeous today,” Lucinda whispered in my ear as her breath caused the sweat on my neck to rapidly cool. It wasn’t an unpleasant or unwelcome feeling after so much movement. When it was my turn, Lucinda let me go to leap my way across the room.</p><p class="p2">We had a short cool down before the révérence, where the men bowed and the women curtsied to one another as a way to show our appreciation of each other. It was a bit more traditional for this class than was probably needed but it was fun and no one really minded this small addition to the class.</p><p class="p2">By the time the two hours of class had passed everyone was a sweaty but contented mess and it was almost noon. As one everyone changed into less damp clothing and then met by the café next door.</p><p class="p2">After a few minutes of oohing and awwing of the photos of Milo’s newest grandson and trash talking Vicky’s latest ex we all departed to continue with our day. Glancing inside I caught a glimpse of subdued red that were Ro’s 1910 inspired cycling pants and made my way over. She was sipping on a mug of what smelled and looked like a fruity tea. She was on her fifteen-minute break. Her break was timed so that she returned twenty minutes before the next class started.</p><p class="p2">Ro leapt from the table to give me a hug and made a moue of disgust at the sweat that still lingered on me despite the fact that I had changed clothing. Nothing too fancy because I still planned to return home to shower but the simple skirt and slightly sheer blouse still managed to stay firmly on the side of semi-formal.</p><p class="p2">“Thank you,” she whispered as she slipped me the lunch box I had given her the last time we had seen each other. I would bring it home and wash it, and she would return the one that I had given her today the next time we saw one another. It was a cycle that worked for us.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Homeowners Association: I saw a answer on Quora about owning a house before a HOA moved in and I ran with it. While I am aware that laws are different state to state I will admit that this will probably not be the most realistic depiction. Sorry, not sorry.</p><p>Ballet: I know nothing about that either. I looked up one website though to find out what the class structure was like because I am trying to avoid time jumps that span more than a few hours.</p><p>Once again all mistakes are my own.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you want to help me out let me know what you think of this, good or bad. I am open to constructive criticism.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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